I Just Want You
by Asherstonn
Summary: Short ficlet taking place during City of Lost Souls. Mild spoilers if you have not read the book. Just a tad bit fluffy.


This was almost more than Jocelyn could bear. She had seen and been through a great deal of trials in her life — as a Shadowhunter as well as masquerading as a mundane — but nothing leading up to this point had reached the magnitude of anguish that clutched her heart in this very moment.

She had a small triumph earlier in the evening; Clary had actually made an appearance at dinner. Perhaps it was the side dish of guilt she had served when she had gone into her room earlier. _'But Luke made dinner. And you should eat.'_ Albeit, slightly hypocritical, Jocelyn had been worried about Clary since Jace's disappearance. The event had taken quite a toll on the both of them, and was one more way of showing just how alike they were.

Dinner was quiet, mostly the mild annoyance of silverware scraping against the glassware as Clary pushed her pasta absentmindedly around her plate. She took a bite here and there, and Jocelyn supposed it was only to appease her. It pained her to see her daughter in such pain, but she felt so helpless to do anything about it. She had no idea where Jonathan — she still shuddered at the thought of her half-Greater Demon _son_ — had taken Jace, nor did there appear to be any way to track them.

"May I be excused?" Clary asked, a hint of latent sarcasm in her tone. Jocelyn nodded, and with that, Clary disappeared into the kitchen. She heard the faint sound of the faucet, assuming that she was rinsing her uneaten food into the garbage disposal. The sound stopped, and Clary's footsteps could be heard faintly as she headed toward the bedroom, followed by the sound of her door closing behind her.

After spending some time with Luke, mainly small talk, Jocelyn painted the best fake smile she could onto her face as she leaned over and planted a peck on Luke's cheek. "Thanks for dinner. I'm going to go clean up," she balanced both of their plates in one hand, and pulled their three glasses together, pressing her fingers against the insides of them in order to carry them at once and shuffled quickly to the kitchen. After rinsing the rest of the dishes she moved to turn off the water faucet and, as she should have expected, it was stuck again. Securing both hands onto the faucet, she attempted to turn it once more; and to no avail. She cried out in frustration as Luke appeared behind her, forcefully shutting off the valve. Although Jocelyn had Shadowhunter strength, greater than a mundane's, it was no comparison to that of a werewolf. "Why haven't we fixed that damn sink yet?" she exclaimed angrily, as she slapped the dish towel onto the counter.

Luke gently grasped Jocelyn's shoulders and turned her to face him, his strong hands practically cradling her small frame. Her gaze was deliberately directed anywhere other than Luke, as she knew that he could see right through her. "Jocelyn," he implored, "Jocelyn, look at me." With that, Jocelyn lifted her tear-filled eyes to meet his. "Honey, what's wrong?" It felt like such a moronic question, as there were practically a million things wrong at this moment in time. He shook his head slightly, as if to gather his thoughts. "What can I do?" he asked, stroking one calloused finger across her face to catch the tear that had begun it's decent down her cheek.

At his words, her demeanor changed. She suddenly looked serious — determined. Jocelyn wrapped her hands around the back of Luke's neck and forcefully pulled him into her, their lips meeting fiercely. Luke's hands lingered in the air to his sides in a confused manner, taken aback by her erratic behavior. She tangled her fingers in his hair as she continued to massage his lips with her own, losing herself in the essence of the man she had secretly loved for all these years.

Although this was an interesting side of Jocelyn, Luke knew that it was uncharacteristic of her to behave this way. He gently pressed his palms against her shoulders to push her away just enough for their lips to part. "Jocelyn, we should really talk about this… About Clary, about," he hesitated, "… Jonathan."

Jocelyn's eyes turned fierce. "Luke," she stated pointedly, "I don't want to talk." She moved her face so close to his that he could feel her breath on his skin as she whispered, "I just want you."


End file.
